


A Horrid Show's Afterparty

by Ledhardt



Category: Guilty Crown
Genre: Afterlife, Gen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 16:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ledhardt/pseuds/Ledhardt
Summary: If death is your final bow, then life must be a performance. What is Makoto Segai's life if not a tragedy? Tragedies often make for the best performances after all, and a good show deserves quite a grand after-party.
Kudos: 2





	1. Death, the Final Bow

**-A Horrid Show’s Afterparty-**

**INTRODUCTION:**

A shrill shriek, laughter, and then it was over. Joy at last in those final moments, or so he thought. Silence, then the thunderous roar of applause "bow, just bow, you've earned it.” The thin man’s body was on autopilot, taking a dramatic stage bow while the audience roared to life once again. He wasn’t sure why he said that, or why he was bowing in the first place, or even what he was bowing for. Even if he thought about it, he hadn’t done anything deserving of a bow or applause in a good long while. In fact, he didn’t know why he was moving at all. _Actually:_ he was fairly certain he was supposed to be dead right now.

This realization crashed into him like a sledgehammer splitting his head in two with pain and confusion. His eyes darted downwards in a panic and he grasped for his arm frantically. No tubes… good, there was some reassurance in that. As joy was harshly supplanted with dread his brain began desperately grasping for answers as if clawing through the dirt of his own premature burial. He could think of very few answers, even less that he liked. The thin man pressed his short fingernails against the back of his thumb out of simultaneous habit and frustration. “This is my life isn’t it? Must I watch it all over again?” and although he hadn’t believed in an afterlife. If this was hell, he thought, it was in very poor taste.

But it wasn’t. He wasn’t being forced to watch his life on repeat either, that would surely be too cruel. As the house lights slowly raised, the thin man took a moment to _compose_ himself. First taking mental inventory in the hopes of clearing this damnable headache.

“Aren’t I supposed to be dead?”

“How did I get here?”

“Who am I even?”

“There was a fire, and I was…”

a tear rolled down his cheek, the first one in so long that he didn’t dare disturb it. He basked in this feeling and when it fell, he basked in it longer, sitting down and studying the droplet on the floor.

“I was happy.”

**-End of introduction-**

**Chapter One: Death, the Final Bow**

Segai stood himself up recalling the kind of man he was supposed to be, that was quite unlike him wasn’t it? He certainly thought so. “I died so what?” he whispered to himself, drawing a small false smile to his lips he regained his catlike posture. Cautiously scanning his surroundings, he oriented himself in a vast radiant theatre that seemed very familiar, though something was wrong… and the proportions were gargantuan. He watched an immense audience comprised of mostly strangers begin to leave. As his eyes strained to view the furthest row in the distance, he noticed a couple standing at the back that looked very familiar. They stood there, lingering, and watching the stage, but something in his gut told him it was best to ignore them. Moving his eyes forwards, down the rows and closer to where he was now, he noticed a few other familiar people. He caught a of glimpse of what looked like his old boss standing up with a woman he didn’t recognize and raised a hand to wave or salute but stopped short when he received an icy glare.

“Oh… that’s right! I was responsible for his death, wasn’t I? How Delightful!”

It was then that he became aware of a _very_ large presence directly behind him.

“shit”

He knew instantly who it was and leapt forwards for the edge of the stage, but it was too late… there was no avoiding it he was dead for certain… again.

“SCARFACE! IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU”

Not the words he was expecting to hear.

“Eh?”

Segai’s body crunches audibly as a huge dog of a man wraps him in, as far as Segai could recall the first hug of his… well he couldn’t say life, but the first hug of his existence. He was thrown off guard by how warm hugs were. He was still unsure if this was some kind of tactic or if we was just too physically numb at the moment to feel himself being crushed alive.

“I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D BE HERE SO SOON!”

“Why are you crushing me?”

“WHY WOULDN’T I GIVE AN OLD BUDDY A HUG!?”

“I shot you?”

“YEAH, THAT TOOK SOME GUSTO”

This was the third time in five minutes that Segai had to recompose himself.

“Dan… if you don’t put me down, I’ll shoot you again.”

“HAH, I LIKE YOUR GUTS SCARFACE”

“And here I was all excited for you to rough me up again.”

Dan set Segai back down and put his hands on his hips with a proud smile and a hearty laugh. Segai took a slinking step back and felt his ribs to make sure they were all still intact. A playful punch on the shoulder causes Segai to wince, then grimace. His head was still pounding, and Dan was certainly not helping with his loud…. American-ness was the only word for it. Segai would be lying if he said he was upset to see him though he certainly wouldn’t admit he was happy. He might've had stronger opinions on the situation if it didn't hurt so much to simply think right now but alas. His wandering thoughts were interrupted by more of Dan’s shouting.

“OH RIGHT, IF WE DON’T HUSTLE, WE’LL BE LATE!”

“Wait, where are you going? Late for what?”

But by now he knew he wasn’t getting an answer, and he was used to being dragged around by his superiors anyways… did Dan still outrank him? Does rank matter in the afterlife? Not the time.

“COME ON LET’S GET MOVING, GUNG-HO”

Once again Segai found himself moving without thinking, towards what? He didn’t precisely know and at this point he didn’t care; he was just happy the headache was starting to show signs of easing up. Supposedly Dan had someone else to pick up and Segai thought it was probably best to stick with someone who’d been here longer than he had until he had his bearings at least. Even if Dan couldn’t answer the hundreds of questions swirling around in Segai’s brain, he could at least help him get situated in this strange, not quite new, not quite right place. Death wasn't at all what Segai expected, and in all honesty, it was a bit of a let-down. A little too similar to living for his tastes. At the very least there were new questions to occupy Segai's overactive mind, for starters: who they were going to "pick up."

**-End of Chapter One: Death, the Final Bow-**


	2. The Ballroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Segai gets a glimpse into his perception of himself.

**-Chapter Two: The Ballroom-**

The transition was impossibly quick, as soon as they left the world started to blur around Segai and drain of color, his perception became full of flashing crackling bursts of sound and light. Little bits and pieces of memories, ten to a hundred at a time in tiny fragments like lightning arcing across a sky full of storm clouds. A few key flashes in this stormy sky left Segai reeling and unable to move. Dan dragged him further forwards by his hand and just as quickly and harshly as the storm of memories started it stopped, leaving the two in a large, mostly empty ballroom.

Red curtains drooped sadly between pillars to mark off a central area for dancing, with a warped and well-used floor. The outer edge of the room was lined with, at first, meticulously and perfectly spaced tables which progressively grew slightly more and more disarrayed, leading up to a group of tables that had been lit on fire and haphazardly shoved into a corner. Segai immediately noticed that despite all the tables there was only one chair. This sat uneasy with him and he slunk over to the bandstand to give the chair a cautious once over, almost slipping on a piece of empty sheet music on the way.

In the mean-time Dan had wandered over to a long table at one side of the room, by a window smothered in more of the red curtains. He sampled a dry cracker, then coughed it up and turned to talk to Segai.

“This is kinda sad Scarface, I mean I knew it’d be _sad_ but there aren’t even good snacks!”

“What?” Segai crept over to see what he was talking about… of course it was food. The table that would traditionally have things to eat was remarkably scarce, a bowl of crackers and a single carton of milk.

“Your afterparty should be more gung-ho in the food department don’t you think!?”

“Expecting a wedding cake?”

“HAH, that would do it! Mine had burgers!”

Segai could only shrug. At a party with only one chair, only one person had to be fed after all, and if it was his party, he didn’t see any point in fancy food for him alone.

“Weren’t we picking up someone else?”

Pulling a brochure out of the pocket of his letterman jacket, Dan says “Oh right!” He flicks quickly through it, making the small sheet of folded paper look even smaller, then he says, “He’s a bit late still, must have been some kind of hiccup with his death.”

“How exciting”

“Anyways, this place needs some more guts! Sit tight for a bit, I’ll be right back!”

Segai watched with some degree of disappointment as Dan leapt over the table and through the window without a second thought. Surely there was a better way to leave…

Segai had always thought himself quite good at becoming numb to the concussive surprises of life and this skill would prove useful here, where things were even more chaotic. He inverted the bowl of crackers with a sigh. Now that he’d caused his own little mess, he could feel a bit of control coming back and chuckled a bit defiantly.

He considered sitting in the chair to wait but then again, this place was sad and lonely, on top of that it was boring… Segai hated boring, if there were two things, he hated the most it would be being bored and not knowing what’s happening. If Segai was going to be uncertain, he would certainly not be bored, he was certain of that.

He was never one for orders either, so he walked over to the door and gave it a tug… then a push… then another tug. After not making an inch of progress he walked over to the window which was somehow completely undamaged then back to the door for another failed push.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH”

He sighed and threw himself to the floor, making a frustrated snow-angel motion.

“I CAN’T OPEN A DOOR.”

A few moments later Dan rushed excitedly through the door then froze… all the tables were upside down… why were all the tables upside down? Dan walked to the center of the room where Segai was giggling like a schoolboy on the floor and unfolded a cheap camping chair.

“I like your redecorating Scarface, OH and I brought a pizza!”

“A pizza? Where in the hell did you get a pizza HAHA see what I did there?”

Dan did not, in fact, see his wordplay.

“Yeah! Nice guts with the tables!”

“Are the crackers really that bad?” Segai asked, lifting the lid of the pizza box.

“This place is a reflection of how you feel about yourself, I figured you just needed some good American grub!”

“Pizza isn’t even American.”

“It is in Chicago!”

“What an exciting development”

In all honesty the concept of food disgusted Segai right now, he set the pizza box next to the crackers with another sigh.

“If the food is based on how I feel, figuring out if the milk is sour should be exciting.”

“Drinking sour milk? That’s gutsy! I like it!”

“If you didn’t bring that chair, I’d call you useless, but seeing as you did, you’re just a waste of space.”

“Your words hurt me funny man, don’t make me hug your guts out!”

“Oh no, I’m shaking in my boots.”

“Don’t make me do it” Dan said standing up.

“Won’t you please?”

In a flash he was being crushed again.

“On second thought put me down, what’s our next step?”

“Already on to the task at hand, I like your gung-ho attitude.” Dan set him down for the time being.

“I hate being bored.” Segai said, rubbing his cheek a little, he knew there was most likely an outline of a letter pressed into it from Dan’s letterman jacket and excessive use of force.

“OK, up next, we have to get seats for the show!”

“How exciting, more sitting and waiting, this show better be something worthwhile.”

“LET’S HUSTLE!”

Dan picked Segai up like a cat and after a brief fit of hissing and clawing they departed.

**-End of Chapter Two: The Ballroom-**


	3. Attrocity Exhibition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Segai and Dan meet the third person they've been waiting on, Segai pieces together a bit more of what the afterlife means.

**-Chapter Three: Atrocity Exhibition-**

Segai sat idly with his neck hanging over the back of a chair, pressing his nails one at a time into his thumb. He was two rows away from the front of a large stage and he was hellishly bored. Being on the other side of someone’s final moments was an odd experience, but he just wanted the show to start already. Dan had argued with a shakingly skeletal ticket salesman and been denied entry, but when Segai _waltzed_ up he was handed a ticket before he could even ask for one. Dan, who seemed dejected at first, cheered up quickly after Segai promised he’d bring “the guy they were waiting to meet” out after the show was over. Dan really was like a puppy, waiting at the door for its owner to come home.

Once inside Segai remembered there was some significance to the environment someone came to the afterlife in, while he found himself taking his final bow in an old grand theatre, this place had a completely different mood. He sat impatiently in a shoddy folding chair under a big tent staring up at the ceiling, surrounded by patchwork soldiers holding greasy bags of stale “incentive” popcorn. Hanging from the big top in chained cages were dead birds and people alike, and the floor was littered with indiscernible bits of gore and garbage. This was the curtain call of someone who noticed but had to actively ignore the weight of their actions in life and Segai knew it.

The lights came down and Segai’s attention wandered to the stage, for a brief minute he imagined a much younger version of himself playing a concerto in a much cleaner version of this place, the audience applauding, but his parents shaking their heads in disapproval at his every mistake. As his daydream faded, the imaginary younger Segai was replaced by a spectral figure.

A young man, no more than 20 years old by the looks of it with long hair, any further features weren’t quite recognizable through the veil of death. The young man started the show swinging, leaping through the air like an acrobat, swinging from the cages and chains in a battle-like dance. The audience kept their eyes expertly trained on him as he darted around the tent. It looked as though he was fighting an invisible combatant, making blocking motions, evasive maneuvers, and delivering a triumphant speech. Then his face telegraphed a look of surprise and in one swift motion he fell to the stage. His mouth moved slowly as if he was speaking to someone quietly, explaining something important with his final breath. Finally, he smiled went limp at last.

The room suddenly grew heavy, Segai felt like almost every member of the audience had a piece of them die alongside this man. A few silent tears stained the dirt below their boots. Slowly, the man stood with jerky, unnatural, motions, like a puppet. Segai paid close attention to the boy’s eyes, watching a death-like glaze leave them at the same moment he seemed to gain lucidity and view his surroundings. He watched him compose himself and take in his surroundings, the same thing Segai had done what felt like only moments ago.

By now Segai had recognized him as the ex-leader of the funeral parlor, the GHQ and funeral parlor had been locked in a game of cat and mouse for quite some time and in life Segai and Gai had only briefly called each other uncertain allies near the end of their respective lives. Segai stood with the rest of the audience, but there was no applause, just a solemn atmosphere and silence. The scarred and broken soldiers around Segai stood with their heads down: then shuffled wordlessly, to the exit. The backmost rows were teary eyed, while the ones closer to the front seemed angrier.

All the respect and admiration directed at Gai over the course of his final moments made Segai want so badly to upstage him, as the audience began their solemn pilgrimage back out of this circus of guilt: Segai began to clap… slowly. That got Gai’s attention for a second, good. Segai approached the stage and began to lean on it nonchalantly, watching him take in information and waiting for him to start asking questions.

“The afterlife is nice.”

“You put that together quick.”

“It’s not a hard puzzle to solve. This is everyone I hand a hand in the death of presumably?” Gai gestures to the leaving audience.

“Seems that way.”

“And you’re….”

“Aww, you don’t remember me?”

“Major Segai… I should kill you.”

Segai shrugged “probably.”

Gai just sat down next to Segai on the stages edge and watched the last of the funeral parlor and GHQ fodder leave.

**-End of Chapter Three: Atrocity Exhibition-**


End file.
